


Words and Images

by Tarlan



Category: Boa vs. Python (2004), Thoughtcrimes (2003)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Hewligan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-26
Updated: 2008-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When both Emmett and Brendan find they have business in Russia, little do they know they will be thrown together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words and Images

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **laytoncolt** as part of the LJ psychic_snakes Brendan/Emmett 2007 Holiday Fic Exchange. I really hope you enjoyed this story...Happy Holidays!
> 
> Also: Hewligan_100 Prompt: 037. Scruff.

Emmett ensured his wet-suit was on comfortably before pulling his cargo pants over the bottom half. If they had to submerge or swim to work their way to the nest Betty had made within the Philadelphia water treatment plant then at least he wouldn't feel the cold so badly this time around. He looked across at Monica and smiled. Night had fallen a short while earlier so Betty would have sought the warmth below ground by now. He just hoped she'd fed enough on those of Broddick's people who had already crossed her path not to have gone out hunting further prey tonight but he couldn't rule it out because she was no ordinary-sized Boa.

As he looked into the darkened entrance to the water plant, the one that Broddick's hunter friends had used when following the python, he had momentary doubts. It wouldn't take too long before the CIA realized that they only had the body of one giant snake and not two, and then they'd be down here hunting for Betty too. They couldn't trust her to live without harming humans. As he had said before, back at his lab at the start of this terrible ordeal, all snakes could hunt as a matter of survival, captivity bred or not. Betty had already proven that she would tackle an adult human successfully and he could only hope that she would not see him as a threat when he and Monica caught up to her. Except, for all his knowledge of snakes gleaned over years of research, he still had no idea what made her ignore him as a food source when he went into her den. Maybe she simply had not cared when an easier meal was already in his hand for the taking. However, down there in the water-filled tunnels, he would be the easy meal along with Monica.

"Maybe you should sit this one out."

"No! We're in this together. If it had been one of my dolphins then you'd be doing everything in your power to help me bring them back."

"Not to make light of your dolphins but I've never heard of them eating their handlers."

"Eating? No...but a Bottlenose dolphin can kill a full grown man the same way it will attack and kill a shark."

Emmett nodded. "Okay." He glanced back into the darkness, panning his waterproof flashlight around the entrance to try to gage how deep the water was in this spot. It looked safe enough for now. "I'll go first."

The rungs of the ladder were slippery but he managed to reach the bottom without incident, finding the water came up to just below his knees. Fortunately, the neoprene kept the worst of the coldness from his skin. He took several steps along the wide tunnel and waited until Monica caught up with him, her flashlight playing over the smooth walls. The visual/audio part of the equipment that Monica had surgically grafted to Betty's head no longer functioned but the GPS signal bounced back to the small handheld.

"This way," she indicated, laying her hand on his arm, and they moved off together almost like lovers out for a stroll under the moonlight.

He glanced at her from time to time, wondering what thoughts circled her mind concerning their relationship. He hoped her presence here wasn't out of some misguided belief that their one kiss meant something more than her sharing her air with him to prevent him drowning. He liked Monica - a lot - but he'd long ago accepted that women did nothing for him beyond enjoying their company in a simple platonic relationship. She left her hand on his arm as they sloshed through the slowly deepening water, using it more for balance and reassurance, he supposed. When they came to the first junction, he paused and waited for her to tell him which direction to go having a moment of fear as he stepped out as he recalled Agent Sharp's death but there was no hunter waiting for him with a sniper's gun. That hunter was dead too, snatched up in the jaws of the giant python. As they climbed the stairs into the next chamber, Emmett shuddered at the thought of being eaten alive, this time staying atop of the large tanks filled to the brim with water, though he froze momentarily beside the tank that had seen him torn between two terrible deaths : drowning or surfacing right into the gaping mouth of the python. Monica had saved him from making that choice, pushing the last of her own breath into his abused lungs and buying him those desperately needed extra seconds.

He owed her his life.

Reaching the far side of the large room, they had to go back down the stairs into another partially submerged chamber but Emmett had his bearing s now. He knew the room Betty had chosen to leave her nest was close, and that she would not stray too far from it at night, wanting to protect the precious few eggs that had survived the jaws of the hungry python. He straightened when he saw the nest and the two remaining eggs, eyes snapping in to one side when Monica breathed in sharply, expecting to see Betty half-concealed within all the piping but seeing, instead, the body of a young woman. He could tell from here, by the strange placement of the bones in her body, that she had been crushed to death, constricted within Betty's coils until her bones were ground together and her lungs were no longer able to draw in a breath. What he had not expected was to see her body still lying here but, most likely, Betty had not had time to unhinge her jaw and swallow the 'meal' and now the body was too cold for Betty to notice. It also proved that none of the CIA agents had come this far into the underground complex in a search for bodies - or for Betty.

Slight movement caught his peripheral vision and he flicked his gaze up to see the slither of movement as the giant snake coiled around the pipe work. The large head dropped, lowering until he was face to face with Betty, her forked tongue flicking out to catch his scent. For one terrible moment, he thought she might not be able to scent him beneath the neoprene and the slightly stagnant water that he had waded through up to thigh deep in places, but she dropped her head and slithered past Emmett, coiling around her nest. He waited until she had settled and then withdrew the large hypodermic and readied it, measuring out the dose carefully before stepping over.

"There, my girl," he crooned, stroking her scaled skin, hand moving in just one direction towards the tail to avoid hurting her by dragging on her scales. She barely registered the injection and he carried on stroking until the tranquillizer had taken hold. Though it pained him to do so, now was the time to request assistance in transporting her back to the Longreen Snake Reserve, so he pulled out a radio and made the call.

An hour passed by slowly as they waited in the semi-darkness of the water treatment plant and Emmett wasn't surprised that he and Monica quickly ran out of things to say to each other outside of their joint experience.

"Did you...? I got the impression you knew Agent Sharp."

Monica sighed. "Long story. Short version is I'd worked with him before and he'd promised..." She looked away and Emmett suddenly understood that Sharp had meant a lot more to her than he could have guessed. "He didn't deserve to die like that."

Emmett nodded even though he knew Monica couldn't see the motion, his hand still stroking Betty, who would be out for several more hours. At least it answered part of the question of why she was here helping him regain Betty. She was doing it to help Sharp keep his promise not to harm Betty unless it was truly necessary rather than as a means to stay close to him, and Emmett could not help but feel grateful that he wouldn't have to explain why a sexual relationship between them was impossible.

The arrival of assistance prevented any more thought on the matter and Emmett spent the next hour organizing Betty's extraction from the water plant. Once Betty was loaded into the specialized containment truck, he stepped back and watched the truck head off into the night. It would take several hours to get to Elkins in West Virginia, and his own car was still parked several miles away, close to where he and Monica had entered the underground system.

"Well. This is it, I guess." Monica smiled and drew him in a hug. She kissed his cheek before drawing back. "Good luck, Emmett."

"You too," he murmured and watched a moment longer as she clambered inside one of the FBI cars. She raised her hand in a wave as it drove away, taking her back to her own life in Miami where her dolphins would be waiting, and he held up his hand until she was out of sight before plunging both hands deep into his pockets.

"Sir? I'll take you back to your vehicle."

"Hmm? Yes. Thank you."

***

Brendan stepped out of the car and stared across the rolling mountainous scenery. He turned back to glare at Freya.

"Here?"

She shrugged but these were the co-ordinates that she had extracted on his request concerning the illegally imported uranium shipment, except there was nothing here to see for miles in any direction. He had expected to see something even if it was just a line shack but dense forest covered a lot of the view in every direction. He turned in a 360 degree circle just in case, seeing only this little used road cutting through the clearing. Then he looked up as an idea formed. Pursing his lips, he started walking further into the clearing, letting his thoughts dribble through the blocking he had put up against Freya, not that it did a whole lot of good if she was determined to know what he was thinking but she respected his pitiful attempts to block.

*Helicopter the uranium in to a remote area...trucks waiting to transport it the rest of the way by road.*

He sensed Freya close and turned on hearing his name called, moving over to inspect the ground she was pointing towards. The grass was flattened in the exact patterns his thoughts had taken, recognizing the skids of a helicopter and the thick tire tracks from an SUV, probably fairly fresh or they would have been completely eradicated by the wilderness by now. Brendan nodded sagely. This was the place, and another shipment was due in tonight. Unfortunately, the man hadn't known exactly when so NSA agents were going to have to stake out the place all night. He moved back to the car and leaned on it as he grabbed the radio, quickly passing the location data across to the NSA field office. The sun was already low in the sky and in another hour it would be dark out here with nothing but moon and starlight to light their way.

"You could have asked the field agents to check out this place first."

Brendan sighed because Freya was right. They hadn't needed to drive all the way out here alone but Brendan liked to see the lay of the land for himself, aware that his eidetic memory was a useful tool in these circumstances, giving him an opportunity to visualize and hence memorize the place while there was light to see. He knew he might have to rely on that memory later. For now, though, He told Freya to get back in the car so he could drive it a little further away and hide it in some of the denser forest area, out of sight. After finding a decent spot just off the main track, he popped the trunk and went round back, pulling out a Kevlar vest for him and Freya. By rights, she knew she was supposed to stay with the car but Brendan wasn't taking any chances, not after the incident with the warehouse bomb...and her less than inspired way of giving Brendan a clear shot at Lars Etsen by putting herself between Brendan and the assassin holding Freya's sister hostage at gunpoint. Admittedly, it had worked but she'd relied on Brendan being a faster shot than Etsen when she'd ducked, leaving him in the direct line of fire. Fortunately, he'd figured out what she was up to and was ready.

He pulled on his vest and then came the hardest part, the waiting.

Within the hour he had a dozen NSA field agents and soldiers stationed around the clearing, hidden from view. Now all he had to do was wait some more, and he hated waiting. It gave him too much time to think about all the things he avoided the rest of the time such as where the hell was his life going? Okay, so he was a senior agent in the NSA, responsible for ridding the US of potential threats to home security, and foiling assassination attempts, but that was it. Outside of his work he had nothing, and it hadn't taken Freya's casual remarks on that subject to bring it to the forefront of his mind. He had no interests, no friends, and no lover waiting for him back at his less than ideal bachelor pad. In fact, he'd been thoroughly ashamed of the ridiculously small apartment when he'd had to let Freya in yesterday. Empty cartons from the local Chinese takeaway, pizza boxes and empty beer bottles scattered across the floor had not exactly made the best impression.

A click on the headset radio halted that train of thoughts, much to Freya's relief judging by her expression, but that would teach her to eavesdrop when he was trying his hardest to learn how to block.

"We're on."

Brendan pulled his gun and clicked off the safety as a truck entered the clearing and switched off its lights. Moments later he heard the approaching sound of a helicopter and smiled as the truck flicked its lights on and off three times in some prearranged signal.

"Wait until its on the ground. I want both of these."

Once Brendan gave the command, the NSA agents and Black Ops soldiers moved in swiftly, quickly overpowering the two men in the helicopter and the three on the ground and Brendan watched with a totally satisfied smile as the uranium was carefully removed and placed into a vehicle ready for transport to some place safe. As for the bad guys...he glanced at Freya, aware that her telepathic abilities were about to come in useful again.

An hour later, Brendan grinned as his and Freya's loaded questions had their latest bad guys revealing thoughts that Freya snatched from each man's head until they had a lead all the way back to the Russian Mafia and one particular man, Sergei Arkov. It took only a few more well-placed phone calls and Brendan found him and Freya rushing towards a nearby airfield where a private government jet would be landing, ready to take them on board. It was time to follow the trail beyond American soil, and Brendan was pleased that, this time, he would be a part of the follow-up too when, normally, international affairs passed to the overseas departments. He knew he had Freya to thank for that, on her insistence that her new partner was brought along too if they wanted to continue making use of her telepathic gifts.

***

Emmett guessed that he was still twenty minutes behind the truck transporting Betty but he knew a short cut that would shave at least forty minutes off the journey, one that the truck could not take advantage of because of its size and load. However, his Jeep had no such restrictions. He knew the area well from spending occasional trips hunting for smaller venomous snakes like the Timber rattlesnake and Northern Copperhead. The snakes were bred and, later, fed to Betty to aid in his research into producing a universal antivenin that might one day save countless lives.

He saw the track up ahead and turned onto it, almost glad for the change to an unlit road as it stripped him of the chance to wallow in thoughts of his current existence. On the main well-lit roads he found his thoughts drifting to the fact that he really didn't have much of a life outside of the Longreen Snake Reserve. He'd tied up so many years of his life searching for that universal antivenin just to ease the conscience of the six-year-old boy he had been when his little sister died, something that was never his fault but that had torn apart his family with grief. Along the way he had forgotten that he was entitled to a life too and, somehow, facing his own mortality at the fangs of a giant python had reminded him of that fact. Except, what did he have now? He was already in his mid-thirties and he'd had maybe a handful of lovers, none of whom had stayed when confronted with his obsession to find a cure for all known snakebites.

He focused on the driving, ignoring the jolts as the Jeep hit potholes and ridges in the track but had to admit to a certain amount of relief when he reached the main road just outside of Elkins. Within another ten minutes, he was drawing up outside the institute into his personal parking space. As he walked across the road he saw Betty's transport turn the corner. Time to get her settled back in her den.

An hour later, Emmett rotated sore shoulders, wishing he had someone willing to offer a massage to take away the muscle ache but he couldn't see Agent Nash offering any time soon. At least Emmett's assistant had come in at his call, along with Stillwell, the head of the Reserve, so he hadn't needed to work with just the inexperienced CIA agents.

"Sir?" Emmett turned to Nash and gave the agent a half smile and his attention. "Sir, Director Matteus has another request for your assistance, in Russia."

Emmett sighed. He should have expected this after Monica mentioned something Agent Sharp had told her about the abandoned Larson Project in Russia, where two genetically modified giant snakes escaped and killed most of the researchers.

"Assistance in what way?" He froze a moment, wondering if they planned to restore the project. "NO. He can't have Betty."

"No, sir. He doesn't want your snake, sir. He wants your expertise."

Emmett glanced towards Stillwell.

"It's already been cleared through me, Emmett, if you're willing. And the government has offered suitable recompense for your time." Stillwell looked down and back up, eyes full of near-desperation. "Government funding for the next twelve months."

Under the circumstances, Emmett knew he had no choice but to agree because the center was already in serious financial difficulty. "Do I have time to pack?"

"Sorry, sir, but clothing and essentials have already been arranged for you. We have a private jet arriving in Elkins in twenty minutes."

Emmett rubbed his stubbled cheek and looked down at the grimy clothing he'd been wearing for two days straight, glad he'd taken the time to change out of the wet-suit at least even if the clothes were a little rank from sweat and stagnant water. Hopefully, that private jet contained washing facilities and those fresh clothes Nash had promised or it was going to be a long, unpleasant trip for everyone.

***

Dr. Wells had been waiting for them at the airport and, despite the outwardly pleasant welcome, Brendan did not need to be a mind reader to know Michael wasn't keen on having him on board. He only had to see the way the man's pale blue eyes shone when he turned to greet Freya to know there was more there than simple doctor-patient respect but Brendan used all his feeble control to mask that thought. Surprisingly, Michael made no attempt to sit next to Freya, instead, taking up a seat two rows behind with one of his associates.

Noting her nervousness, Brendan reached out and patted Freya's hand as the jet took off, feeling her relax once the jet was in the air. When the pilot announced an unscheduled landing only fifteen minutes later, Brendan glanced to Freya in concern at the additional delay. So far she was holding out well but he knew from Michael that she had spent the past eight years in a mental asylum, believed to be insane because of the voices in her head. She had only been released into Michael's care three months earlier, and her training was still incomplete. The thoughts of others still caught her unawares on occasion, especially when she was tired. They had spent the past week actively tracking down this terrorist group and both of them were tired after hours of driving, surveillance and then the take down of the helicopter and truck.

I hope being cooped up on this jet won't be a problem, he thought, even though there were only a few people on board, suddenly grateful that Michael was one of those people. He was startled when she gripped his forearm.

"I'll be okay."

He winced. "So I'm not doing so good at the blocking...yet."

She smiled but he could see no distress in her dark eyes, only what he almost considered as sisterly affection despite the fact that he had known her only a few weeks. Some how they had clicked on some level, with him even admitting to his photographic memory, something he tried to hide normally because, once the 'party trick' fun was over, the majority of people became uncomfortable with the knowledge that he would remember every detail right down to the ugly spot on their tie or the zit on their chin ten weeks earlier.

The jet touched down smoothly in Elkins and taxied towards the private hangars at the end of the airfield. Brendan watched out the window as a black car pulled up alongside and two men stepped out. One was obviously an agent, dressed in the 'uniform' dark suit, white shirt and dark tie, and with a tell-tale bulge of a hand gun strapped beneath his left armpit. The other man was...scruffy, dressed in mud streaked, green cargo pants and a grimy black tee stretched across a muscular chest, hugging pectorals and biceps; the small points of nipples were hardened by the cold night air drawing Brendan's attention. He lost track of the man as he reached the in-built stairs, swiveling in his seat so he could watch the man enter the small compartment, and liking what he saw even more under the cabin lights. Mid brown but dirty hair curled against the collar of his tee, a wide mouth with fuckable lips, and his eyes were the most amazing shade of blue, almost glowing.

Those incredible eyes caught and held his for a moment, widening in interest, those kissable lips parting softly, a mouth almost begging to be plundered... Brendan broke the contact with a small yelp, rubbing his arm and glaring at Freya.

"I so told you my sister was not your type," she whispered, and then her smile became impish. "He is though." She raised one immaculate eyebrow, teasingly as she glanced at the new arrival, eyes widening further. "And you're his."

Brendan looked around guiltily, noticing Michael's interested stare. "Don't say that here!" he whispered harshly. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling very hot though he knew it most likely had more to do with the embarrassed heat in his cheeks.

"Please fasten your seat belts ready for take-off."

Grateful for the small reprieve, Brendan made sure his seat belt was secure and looked back out the window to watch as the jet left the lights of the airfield and Elkins, West Virginia far below as they climbed high into the clouds.

He didn't intend to keep glancing back at the other man but Brendan noticed that as soon as the seat belt light turned off, the man was out of his seat and heading into the washroom on board this executive jet with a small case in his hand. Unfortunately, Brendan wanted to use the facilities too. He could see no 'engaged' sign on the door and after another few minutes he knew he couldn't hold on any longer, regretting those cans of soda, and slipped out of his seat to head towards the tail of the jet. Pushing open the door, his eyebrows rose in when he realized that these jets really were built for luxury. Inside was a small area with two separate stalls and a couple of wash basins and at the far end was another door that swung open further as the jet rocked through a little turbulence. Brendan relieved himself quickly, intending to do his business and walk away, but the sound of running water and soft, tuneless humming drew him to the door, which he pulled a little further ajar. Inside was a small changing area and a single shower stall with almost negligible frosting on the glass screen, certainly not enough for decency Brendan determined as he stared at the naked man luxuriating in the flow from the shower. Soap suds clung to the small of the man's strong back before running over the firm curve of his perfectly sculptured ass, gentle hands following the path as if to chase away the soap, stroking over hip and the swell of his ass before sliding lower over muscular thighs. His tuneless hums became soft moans of pleasure that vibrated all the way through Brendan to his cock as the man twisted beneath the spray, hands now splayed over his chest, rubbing across firm muscle and scraping over those tiny, hard nipples before dropping lower...lower...to wrap around his erection. Brendan's mouth went dry with anticipation as the man threw back his head, jacking himself slowly, knowingly, his hand giving the tiniest twist at the end of each stroke. Brendan couldn't turn away as soft moans became quiet gasps, eyes screwed shut and lips parted in a soft 'o' as he climaxed, the water washing away his release as the man leaned forward into the spray, one hand now leaning firmly on the tiled wall for support.

Brendan stepped back quickly, suddenly aware that he really shouldn't have been there, shouldn't have stayed to watch. He heard the shower shut off as he closed the main washroom door behind him.

***

Movement had caught Emmett's eye as he came down from the euphoria of release and he turned in time to see a dark suit jacket and dark, messy hair retreating. He felt the heat suffuse his cheeks as he wondered how much the man had seen while silently wishing he'd made certain he'd secured the shower room door better. At the time he'd been so desperate to get out of the grimy, sweaty clothes and to relieve some of the tension coiling in his belly ever since Agent Sharp arrived on his doorstep with Monica.

Well, there was no use worrying about it now and the guy probably felt just as embarrassed anyway. With the towel slung low around his hips, Emmett scrubbed the condensation from the mirror, staring at his tired reflection as he rubbed a hand over his bristled chin. Shaving would be the next task. He dried himself off quickly and pulled on the fresh military style boxers and cargo pants that had been handed to him, strangely unsurprised at the good fit because these government agents were trained to specify targets in detail. Ten minutes later, he rubbed a hand over his freshly shaved face, replacing the electric razor in the holder beside the mirror. He hated electric razors because they tugged on his skin but he had to admit to feeling far better now he had lost the grimy hobo look he had sported only half an hour earlier.

Only one man seemed to notice him when he stepped out of the washroom back into the main cabin, though Emmett might not have noticed if he hadn't already been checking in that direction at the only man he'd seen on board - so far - with dark, messy hair. Yeah, he thought. It had been him judging by the pink tinge of embarrassment at the tips of his slightly pointed ears. Emmett frowned when the woman seated beside the man sniggered, wondering what the man might have said to her, and feeling a little self conscious, he dropped into a seat further away from the one he'd selected when he first came on board, not wanting to stay too close to the bathroom door to avoid possible interruptions from others using the facilities.

"Doctor?" Agent Nash handed him a laptop and a small pile of documents. "These are the research papers from the Larson Project. Director Matteus thought you might like to spend some time reading them during the flight."

"Yes. Thank you." Part of him was eager to start immediately but he recognized that he hadn't slept in more than day. "Agent Nash? I need to get a few hours sleep in first. Would you wake me in four hours, please."

The agent nodded and Emmett reclined the seat into a flat position, wishing he could always travel in style rather than in coach, if he had to travel at all. He fell asleep instantly, relaxed after his shower and release, dreams of battling giant snakes dissipating quickly as his subconscious turned to more pleasurable memories, of dark messy hair and a handsome face watching him as he stroked himself to climax.

***

The late night flight meant most of the surprisingly few passengers on the private jet had settled down to catch a few hours sleep, with two agents remaining vigilant, doing their jobs. For Freya, this meant her dreams were filled with snatches from those around her, surfacing occasionally when one nightmare or another assaulted her. She dreamed of dueling snakes, red and green, that segued into fingers wrapped around a hard erection, of a wide mouth parted in release, long sandy lashes flickering over lust-dazed blue eyes as more familiar hands swept the curve of a pale ass, lube-slicked fingers delving into the valley between the cheeks, brushing over the hidden entrance before pushing in...

Freya awoke with a start, eyes snapping open as she glanced at her partner, easily visualizing the image indelibly printed in his mind from his visit to the washroom earlier, seeing the muscular body writhing to Brendan's phantom touch. She blushed when she realized she was eavesdropping on an erotic dream but she'd yet to meet anyone who could give her images as well as words. Perhaps it was because Brendan's mind was photographic, that his faster than light thoughts created whole scenes down to the smallest detail; the water-dampened curls on the other man's chest, a pert nipple and one slightly ragged nail scraping over it, bringing it to a hard peak....and then she realized she had this dream almost in stereo with hazy thoughts of a similar nature coming from another source. She used direct line of sight to touch each mind carefully, finally alighting on the sleeping man several rows behind on the other side of the jet, and knew those dream hands kneading the man's taut ass were Brendan's.

She wished she could get these two together because they looked so perfect for each other in both dream and reality.

A short while later, Agent Nash woke the other man, drawing him from his sweet dreams of Brendan and, almost at the same time, Brendan awoke too, looking confused for a moment until he turned his head and spotted her seated next to him. Earlier, he had offered her the window seat so she could sleep without him disturbing her should he need to stretch his legs and, now, he stared beyond her and through the small window.

"Are we there yet?"

She shook her head with a smile. They still had another five, maybe six hours to go before they reached Lensk, where Sergei Arkov ran his Mafia empire. She watched as he flicked on the personal screen, selecting the flight program. They were almost over Iceland, touching the Arctic circle before heading down towards Eastern Europe and Russia.

Brendan glanced over his shoulder but turned back quickly, and Freya didn't need to be a mind reader to know his and the other man's eyes had met again. She could read it in his body posture, in the way he squirmed slightly in his seat to covertly adjust and hide the hard bulge in his pants that had been a physical reaction to his erotic dream initially but was now a response to the other man's obvious interest.

"I need to use the bathroom." Freya grinned as his thoughts entwined with earlier memories of the other man in the shower, and he grimaced. "Maybe, with Dr. Wells' help, we can work more on that blocking when I get back."

Freya laughed softly, attracting more than the other man's attention again but sobering when she caught the almost jealous and slightly despondent thought coming from two sources, that she and Brendan were together in more than the platonic partners sense. One quickly blocked his thoughts, and she knew that had to be Michael but the other didn't realize he needed to.

*Always after the unattainable, Emmett. You're not in his league anyway.*

"Emmett," she murmured softly after hearing him berate himself. When she focused on him again, his head was buried in the laptop and his thoughts were full of snakes; she drew back quickly, shuddering at the image it called up in her mind. Instead, her thoughts turned to Michael and the momentary lapse that let her see how much she meant to him. Part of her was flattered especially as she had strong feelings for him too. The problem was, she was unsure if her feelings were borne out of simple gratitude, for handing her a whole new life away from the torment she had faced for eight years. All she did know for certain was that she liked and respected him. Once she had learned to recognize her own feelings, sifting them out from the people surrounding her at any time, then she suspected she would discover that her feelings for Michael probably ran far deeper.

As for Brendan, he was special. Funny, smart, incredibly good looking but so obviously not interested in women that it made her smile when women fawned all over him. If anything, he felt as much relief from her physical presence as a barrier between him and them as he did for her telepathic abilities.

When Brendan returned from the washroom, desperately trying to cover the way his focus automatically sought Emmett, she grinned again but refrained from teasing him when Michael beckoned to them. An hour later, they were still deep into discussions on Sergei Arkov and how they planned to get Freya in to see him. Emmett was too engrossed in his work to even notice, his thoughts tracing over words on documents as he listed to audio and visual research on the laptop.

***

Less than two hours out from Lensk, the jet shook violently, spilling drinks and papers, though Emmett managed to stop the laptop from sliding off the table and hitting the floor. He looked around at the others, feeling the same unease mirrored in their faces as the jet lurched again. This time he was not so lucky and the laptop slid sideways out of his grasp, crashing to the floor.

The seat belt light came on and the pilot was heard on the speakers. "We have a minor problem up here. Please stow all loose objects, put your seats into the upright position, and fasten your seat belts."

Emmett worked quickly, but looked up in relief when the handsome NSA agent came across and helped him gather up the fallen laptop and papers. Together they stowed them in the overhead locker, ensuring it was secured afterwards.

"Thanks...?"

"Agent Dean... Brendan." He held out a hand that Emmett took, fingers tingling at the contact, answering the question in the green-hazel eyes.

"Emmett."

"Sirs? You need to take your seats now."

Emmett glanced back to Nash, who was belting himself in at the back of the jet and nodded, staggering slightly as the jet lurched again.

"Sit with me." Brendan indicated towards the empty seat next to him and Emmett noticed for the first time that the woman was now seated with another man who'd been introduced at some point as Dr. Michael Wells. Emmett could see no reason to refuse Brendan, and every reason to agree because the violent shudders were increasing his distress, and the thought of sitting alone on the other side of the jet was even more worrying. Lulled by the luxury of these seats, he'd forgotten how much he hated flying. When the jet lurched again, Emmett felt his stomach rise into his throat, feeling the sudden drop in altitude, and he focused on Brendan's hand on his bare forearm, drawing him down into the seat next to him, grateful when the other man left his hand there as the jet suddenly plummeted, even though the fingers tightened painfully as Emmett gripped the seat-rest equally tight. The jet leveled abruptly and Emmett fumbled with his seat belt before turning to look at Brendan, finding those incredible eyes probably as wide and alarmed as his own. Two sets of seats behind Brendan, the woman had her eyes closed tight, her forehead wrinkled as if she was concentrating hard.

"Freya?" Brendan spoke only her name and she answered tightly.

"There's a mechanical failure...but the back-up system isn't working either." Her eyes opened wide, gasping softly. "Sabotage?"

Emmett swallowed hard, wondering why anyone would want to bring down the plane until he remembered that he was little more than a hitcher. Nash's branch of the US government taking advantage of the jet's destination to save both time and the cost of placing him on a commercial jet. The only people on board other than him, Nash, the pilots and two stewards were obviously government agents heading to Russia on business. Had that business been something worth killing them over? Probably, he thought in dismay.

As the jet rocked again, Brendan reached out to grasp his hand, strong fingers enclosing his own over the edge of the seat-rest. He could hear the engine on the right side screaming under the strain, while the left shut down completely, and he closed his eyes, more afraid now than he had been in the tunnels searching for the python and Betty. A hand on his cheek made him turn his head and open his eyes, and then he was being kissed, soft lips firming under his, open mouthed, wet and dirty, tongue forcing its way in to lick and glide and coil around his own, battling for dominance and Emmett submitted with a low, throaty moan. Brendan drew back as the jet lurched violently again, staring at him intensely, and Emmett's gaze flicked between his desire-darkened eyes and kiss-swollen lips, feeling warm, panting breaths on his face, mingling with his own.

"When we land," Brendan stated softly, intently, "You can have all the rest."

When we land, Emmett thought, wondering if he could even wait that long, no longer worried that they might not land in one piece because that wasn't going to happen. They were going to get through this, and as if hearing his thoughts, the jet stopped shaking and leveled off again, the engine noise quieting down.

"Brace for impact," the pilot stated over the speaker, and they both leaned forward, one hand braced over their heads while the other remained firmly grasped in the other man's hand. He felt the bump as the first wheel touched down, and then the snap as it gave way, the jet landing on its belly with a scream of metal sliding over ground, spinning sideways and falling several more feet before coming to halt with an abrupt crunch.

Emmett looked up when all movement ceased, feeling a hand grappling almost intimately against his lower body until he realized Brendan was releasing the seat belt holding him down.

"Out," he ordered, dragging Emmett to his feet and Emmett followed as if in a dream, part of him realizing he was in shock, unable to truly cope with all that was happening on top of the recent ordeal with Betty. He saw Agent Sharp again, the single armor piercing bullet ripping through his Kevlar vest and body like both were made of soft butter, heard the screams of the dying soldiers, burning alive from Broddick's flame-thrower, and the yells of frightened, stampeding kids as the python attacked the party... and he saw the snakes fight over Broddick's paralyzed body, tearing the man apart before his eyes. Brendan didn't stop pulling on him until they were well away from the jet, their feet crunching on virgin snow, quickly joining the others huddled beneath the trees. He started to shake, suddenly aware of how bitterly cold it was out here compared to the perfect temperature in the jet, and unresisting as he was tugged to the ground. Brendan urged him back to rest against the man's chest, pulling his flimsy 'secret agent' dress suit jacket around the pair of them but Emmett felt warmer instantly, right down to the core of his being, as strong arms wrapped around him and held him tight.

In the distance, he could hear sirens approaching, only then realizing that it was daylight here. A while later, hands were reaching for him, dragging him to his feet and huddling him into thermal blankets before leading him away. Emmett forced them to stop for a moment, looking back at Brendan, not quite able to smile at the promise written in the man's eyes before Emmett was hurried away in another direction.

***

Brendan watched as the medics led Emmett away, feeling Freya's small hand resting on his arm. He turned to her and saw she was staring after Emmett too. Her face looked even paler than usual.

"He'll be fine. He's had one ordeal too many in the last few days... but I can sense he'll be fine."

Brendan nodded, recalling the man's initial grimy appearance and the haunted, shocked look in the wide blue eyes when Brendan dragged him from the jet. He was determined to find out what had happened to Emmett, later. "How about you?"

She looked down at her torn tights and the mud caking her short dress, then reached out behind her to draw Michael close, wrapping her arm around him. "I'm fine too."

"Well, that's good," he stated with a soft grin and this time, when he met Michael's eyes, he saw no coolness in them directed towards him and realized he was no longer seen as a rival for Freya's affection. He looked away in embarrassment as he recalled that passionate kiss with Emmett only minutes before they crashed, but Freya soft laugh quickly reminded him that he had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

The group of NSA agents, plus Michael, were packed into a couple of vehicles and Brendan was annoyed once he realized they were heading in a different direction from Emmett but he and Freya had a job to do, and the sooner they completed it, the sooner the terrorists lost their link to Russia's black market uranium.

***

A week later, Brendan stared across the hangar at the government jet that would carry him home with Freya and Michael, remembering his last trip with more fondness than it should have merited, solely because of Emmett. With Freya on his side, finding out Emmett's part in the news story of two giant snakes battling it out within the water treatment plant in Philadelphia had been relatively easy. He even knew where to find Emmett Stateside in Elkins, West Virginia and, for the first time, he entertained the idea of moving out of the city, away from the stress of living with so many people pressing in on all sides. He didn't need to be there anyway, not in this age of computers and video conferencing. He was already called to do his job just about anywhere in the country so what did it matter where he was based so long as the place had decent connections with the outside world, and Elkins was a large community.

The questionable part was his focus on Emmett's hometown when he had only Freya's word to go on that Emmett was interested in him, that and the amazing kiss, but he'd worked with sketchier information in the past, trusting his gut instincts. Those instincts were telling him to find Emmett and see if there could be more to their relationship that a voyeuristic shower and the hottest kiss he'd ever experienced.

Freya nudged his elbow. "I hate the city too. Too many people, too many thoughts to block."

His concern for how to convince his boss to transfer him to Elkins faded because if Freya wanted to go then all he had to do was show he was willing to follow her lead. The fact that it was his idea originally would not matter in the slightest.

"I figured you'd prefer to go to upstate New York?" He inclined his head slightly towards Michael, aware that his research center was in that area.

"Oh, he wants to expand the size of the research center, and he'd heard there's a lot of prime government land in West Virginia."

Brendan wished he could hug her, silently promising instead to find a new theme tune to sing in his head because Scooby Doo was slowly driving her insane. She punched him on the arm affectionately.

The steps were lowered and Brendan started walking towards the jet, only to be distracted as another car pulled up. The man stepping out of the car was every bit as gorgeous as his eidetic memory supplied and Brendan had to hide the grin that threatened to split his face as Emmett approached.

"Room on board for one more?" Emmett asked teasingly as Brendan moved in to clasp the hand raised in greeting. He wished he could pull Emmett into an embrace, recalling every last detail of that one passionate kiss they had shared. However, if it was unprofessional to hug Freya then it was certainly out of line hugging Emmett. Instead, he consoled himself by dropping his hand on Emmett's shoulder and leaving it there until they reached the steps.

Halfway through the flight, as the lights dimmed to let the few passengers sleep, Brendan felt Emmett's hand find his, squeezing his fingers as he nodded towards the back of the luxury jet. Brendan nodded and let Emmett go, waiting a few minutes before following him to the washroom. The door to the shower area was ajar again but, this time, Brendan did not loiter on the threshold. This time he stepped through and locked the door behind him, looking through the almost transparent screen to where Emmett stood beneath the cascading water, eyes already darkened with desire as he watched Brendan through the fine spray. It took only a moment to strip off, leaving his clothing carefully folded on the bench, and then he was slipping inside the shower stall, drawing the screen closed behind him and moving into Emmett's open arms. They kissed gently, tasting and licking, learning the contours of each other's lips before deepening the kiss to learn the deeper secrets within. Arms enfolded him as he drew his lips away, warm hands smoothing over a water-slicked back, stroking from shoulder blade to the curve of his ass, fingers trailing along the valley, tracing over the tight opening with soap-covered hands. Brendan reached up and dragged his fingers through the wettened strands of brown hair clinging to the curve of Emmett's face, pulling him into another kiss and moaning into the open mouth. His hands moved to push on the broad shoulders and he gasped in pleasure as Emmett sank to his knees on the wet tiled floor. A hot mouth worked the length of his cock in open mouthed kisses, tongue trailing up the thick vein to swirl over the head, rubbing against the tight bundle of nerve endings and sending an aching sensation rippling into his belly and thighs.

"Yessss," he hissed, using his body as an umbrella to shield Emmett from the shower spray as he gazed down at his lover, watching his cock sink between the soft lips and gasping as he felt it bump the back of the vulnerable throat. "So good." His fingers found the curve of ears, stroked across the temple and followed the cheek bone down to the strong jaw, trailing over slightly bristled skin until he was touching those lips, touching himself. Mesmerized, he watched his cock sink in and out, the pleasure building and building until he tried to draw away, held instead by strong hands clutching his ass, and he came with a cry, one hand on Emmett's throat, feeling him swallow and swallow until he'd sucked every last drop. Brendan leaned heavily onto the broad shoulders, knees almost too weak to support his weight, feeling tiny aftershocks as Emmett nuzzled his groin, fingers still kneading his ass. Regaining his strength, he pulled Emmett back to his feet and reached down between them, grasping the hard erection and stroking him firmly from root to head, giving that extra small twist he recalled from that other shower, and swallowing Emmett's cry of passion as the heat of his release liberally coated his fingers before being washed away.

Afterwards should have been embarrassing but, instead, Emmett reached for the shower gel and started to clean them both, and they ended up giggling like a couple of school kids as they each tried to wash the other with as much soap lather as possible.

Brendan had never had a lover as attentive as Emmett, helping to dry him briskly, kissing him constantly as if he couldn't have enough of Brendan's taste, which was fine by Brendan because he felt the same about Emmett, wanting to lick and bite and touch every inch of the man's body, learn every contour, every curve, every hollow. Finally dressed, they opened up the door and stepped into the main washroom, sharing one last dirty kiss while hidden from public eyes.

"Elkins has a field office," Brendan stated solemnly.

"Really?" Hope filled the blue eyes, followed by a lazy, delighted smile when Brendan nodded, and Brendan just knew he was making the right decision for all of them, but especially for him and Emmett.

END


End file.
